


moats and boats and waterfalls, alleyways and payphone calls

by xphantomhive



Series: television [1]
Category: Raising Hope (TV)
Genre: 100000000000+ seasons, Other, There's swearing, but when is there not with raising hope, gosh i wish this show had like, should be resting my hands but instead i did this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-07
Updated: 2016-11-07
Packaged: 2018-08-29 17:52:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,635
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8499475
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xphantomhive/pseuds/xphantomhive
Summary: Hope gets in trouble with the law. Twice. For good reasons, by the way.If you can ever have a good reason for getting in trouble with the law. Twice.





	

**Author's Note:**

> this show deserved 1000000000+ seasons, a movie, a game, a clothing line, and a blessing from jesus himself

On December twenty-fourth, otherwise known as Christmas eve, fifteen-year-old Hope Chance is arrested for vandalism. And she has a damn good reason—seriously. The cops find her at six p.m., painting over something on the brick wall behind the park. No matter how many times she tries to explain herself, they just won’t listen. They choose to cuff her and shove her in the back of the cop car instead, laughing when the driver mentions that she’s, “turning into her mother” which makes her angry for several reasons, one of those being that her _birth_ mother is dead and her _actual_ mother is Sabrina. She’s escorted to the police station and shoved into a holding cell with a local prostitute, a boy who looks distinctly like he’s going through the same phase her dad did once, and the ex-mayor.

Vodka in hand, red fingernails wrapped around the neck of the bottle, the mayor shuffles closer to her. She slurs her words when she goes, “Virginia Chance? ‘S that you?”

Hope shakes her head. “No. I’m her granddaughter, Hope Chance?”

Lately, she’s been getting that a lot from people in town. Lucid Maw Maw has even slipped up a few times and called her Virginia instead of Hope. Ever since she got her hair cut a few weeks ago, grandpa, mom, _and_ dad keep telling her that she looks just like grandma, with that haircut. She shifts nervously when the mayor says nothing back, only shrugs her shoulders and takes a swig of her vodka, moving away. An officer walks over to the cell and starts unlocking it, and the prostitute is up and out of her seat, hands on the bars, begging to know if she’s being left out, that she really didn’t mean to break the law (even though she probably did).

The cop looks annoyed with her. Hope guesses this isn’t the first time she’s done that. “You ain’t being left out. I keep telling you that. I’m here for the blonde. She gets one phone call.”

Knowing that she’s the blonde, Hope hops out of her seat and outside of the cell. The officer gives her an up and down, raises an eyebrow, and says, “Man, you’re a pack of smokes and a bun in the oven away from being your grandma, ain’t you?”

She thinks that was supposed to be insulting, but Hope doesn’t say anything back. She’d really like to defend her grandmother, punch him in the face for that comment, but she knows better than that. Assaulting an officer is just going to make her fine higher, and she doesn’t want to make her parents have to spend even _more_ money—but, her other grandparents are pretty rich, so maybe they’d help out. Oh, whatever. The cop leads Hope to an old-looking phone that still has one of the spinning number dial pads, like the phone her grandparents have. She takes the phone off of the receiver and tries to think of who to call. Dad? No, he’d freak. Mom? No, she’d freak, too—and then she’d tell dad, and they would both freak. Shelley? Well, maybe, but it’s Christmas eve. Hope settles on calling grandma.

Hope crosses her fingers that Maw Maw doesn’t pick up, because if she isn’t lucid, she’ll probably hang up the phone and then Hope’s phone call will be wasted. To her relief, grandma picks up with a, “Who the hell is this?”

Swallowing anxiously, Hope curls the phone cord around her finger. “Um, hi, grandma. It’s—it’s Hope. I, uh. Well, you see, I kinda got arrested for vandalism and now I’m stuck in jail? You’re my one phone call.”

Dad would’ve yelled. Mom would’ve shrieked. Grandma, well. Grandma snorts a loud laugh and loudly calls, “Burt! We got ourselves a criminal granddaughter,” and then, to her, “You didn’t murder your boyfriend, did you?”

She’s stuck in jail on Christmas eve and her parents are probably worried sick and the entire police station smells like a dirty sock, and as much as she doesn’t think she can, doesn’t want to, Hope laughs. “I don’t have a boyfriend, grandma. I got arrested for vandalism. Good vandalism, by the way! This asshole in my class got a hold of that movie, _The Chances of Natesville_? And then he spray painted some horrible stuff about our family on the brick wall at the playground, so I went and sprayed over it since mom and dad were both at work. Only I got caught by the cops, so. Here I am, I guess.”

Grandma snorts. “You’re a helluva good kid, Hope. Wait it out, alright? And make sure to trade your cell phone for protection if you need it. Grandpa and I will be there as soon as we can, given that Maw Maw doesn't fight back.”

Hope nods to no one but herself and then says, “Um, grandma?”

“Yeah?”

“I love you.”

Grandma is probably smiling. Hope certainly wishes so. “Love you too, kiddo. If someone tries to give you something and they tell you it’s candy, don’t take it.”

With a smile and a quiet giggle, Hope hangs the phone up. She gets escorted back to the cell and finds that the prostitute is now gone, meaning that someone either came to bail her out or she escaped. Could be either. The mayor is passed out against the wall, vodka bottle next to her, spilt all over the bench. The goth kid is still there. She has no choice but to sit next to him, since the rest of the bench is covered in vodka. He says nothing to her. She’s thankful.

It takes a while, about an hour, Hope counts, but eventually her grandparents come bursting into the station. Grandma walks over to the cell while grandpa talks to the warden, and Maw Maw wanders away, probably doing something she shouldn’t be. “Hey, the kid next to you looks just like your dad used to,” she comments. The boy looks up and glares. Hope muffles her laughter with the back of her hand and stands. “Is that the mayor?”

“Yeah. She thought I was you.”

Grandma scoffs. “Prolly ‘cause she was drunk. You know I told your parents about this, right?”

Hope nods and curls her fingers around the bars on the cell. “Yeah, I know. Are they still at work?”

“‘Course. They trust me and grandpa, you know.”

“Grandpa and I,” Hope corrects, and grandma rolls her eyes and says that she liked her better when all she could say was “yes” and “no.” She doesn’t actually mean it, and Hope knows that, so she laughs. “They’re here, aren’t they?”

Grandma shrugs. “Maybe.”

“They’re here.” She affirms. The warden finally comes over to the cell with the key and unlocks the door, escorting her out. Grandpa hugs her and says he’s glad she didn’t die in prison, even though she’s only been in a holding cell and it hasn’t even been two hours since she got here. Grandma goes off to find Maw Maw and grandpa takes Hope out to the van. Her dad isn’t there, but her mom is, and as soon as she’s sitting down in the van her mom is hugging her.

“Hope!” She exclaims. She’s cutting off Hope’s airflow, but Hope chooses not to make a big deal out of it. “Virginia told me everything. You did a good thing, Hope.”

“Tell that to my fine of three-hundred dollars,” Hope gives back, leaning against the beanbag chair behind her, the same one that she was apparently driven around in when she was first born because he dad didn’t have enough money for a car seat? Her family is weird.

It takes grandma a while to finally find Maw Maw. Maw Maw argues with grandma about who gets to ride shotgun and eventually, grandma gives in, says, “You’re like one-hundred and fifty years old, I’m not fighting you over the front seat,” before she climbs into the back and shuts the door behind her. Hope leans against her grandma’s arm and gets a kiss on the head in return, followed by, “Sucking up to me won’t make your dad any less angry, y’know.”

And it doesn’t. When they get to grandma and grandpa’s house (actually Maw Maw’s house, but Maw Maw is convinced by now that she’s actually dead and is just a ghost) dad hugs her tight enough that she’s sure her fingertips turn purple and then he grounds her for a week, explains that it’s just to teach her that actions have repercussions, even though what she did was for her family, for a damn good reason. Mom says, “Don’t worry, I can cut the punishment back to two days,” before winking at her, and Hope makes a face and responds, “Gross, mom. Gross.”

Everyone laughs. Mom gets Hope’s punishment cut back to a day and a half, and when she asks how exactly that works, her dad says, “It works because I’m your father and my word is your law. That’s it.”

Hope gives a loud laugh and pulls both of her parents into a hug. After winter break ends and school starts up again, Hope finds out who spray-painted the crude things on the brick wall at the playground and she punches him in the face. His dad is a lawyer. He sues her for fifty dollars and half of her dessert at lunch.

Grandpa laughs so hard that he falls off of the sofa, when dad tells him. Grandma winks at her and laughs, leans over to kiss her cheek and tells her quietly, “You got that right hook from me. Your dad’s a damn wimp.”

Hope smiles. She belongs to the weirdest family in Natesville, no doubt. She loves them all the same.

**Author's Note:**

> i have carpal tunnel and should be resting my hands. instead, i'm writing oneshots about television shows. yay.
> 
> the title is from "home" by edward sharpe and the magnetic zeros because it makes me think of raising hope whenever i listen to it.


End file.
